


Animalistic

by Depths



Series: In a mockery of recollection [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Feral Behavior, Feral Link (Legend of Zelda), Gen, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Team as Family, not honestly sure what to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26457157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Depths/pseuds/Depths
Summary: The shrine of resurrection took everything. Everything Link had, and knew, and was.(All he has is the noise in his head. But none of it makes any sense, and he'd rather they were silent more often than not.)
Relationships: Daruk & Link & Mipha & Revali & Urbosa & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Series: In a mockery of recollection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926892
Comments: 14
Kudos: 511





	Animalistic

_ No, Link. Not that one. _

His ears twitched at the noise, but he didn’t move. The sounds made by it were always soft and sweet, there was no reason to be alarmed unless it gave him one. Hair wet with blood flopped wetly against his cheek and he shook furiously, huffing in frustration as more blood just splattered across his jaw. It spilled out through the gaps in his teeth, down his chin, across the grass.

_ Let it go, please. _

The fur was stiff and dusty against his skin. It always got stuck between his teeth. Red and raw and wet and kind of gross. He had to tightly clamp his jaw down and yank to rip away a proper mouthful, but food was food. The red fruits and strange plants he tried, that first confusing month, were good but not always enough. Not enough to fight. Not enough to win. 

He almost dropped it anyway when one of the other noises started up in the stead of the soothing one.

_ Drop it already, you stupid Hylian, come on... _

He whined through his mouthful. The other voice, dragging and haughty, sounded more tired than usual. It’s nonsensical noises lacked their usual flair. After so long hearing them in his head, he could at least tell the dips and dives apart–– at least he was fairly sure he could.

_ No, don't make that pathetic noise, dammit, just–– _

_ You know that won't work, Revali, _ A third noise began to buzz, low and firm. It immediately made him stiffen a little. He didn't often hear it, not unless he was about to be in danger. But there was nothing around. Just him and his prey, clamped tight and limp in his jaws. Nothing for it–– them––

_ Her, _ his mind–– not his mind–– whispered. The wavering, weak voice hummed in the back of his head, heavy and ever-present.  _ Her name is Urbosa. And you are Link. And I am… I am Zelda.  _

_ Princess... _

He whined again, louder. The fox carcass hit the grass with a hollow-sounding thud and he ducked close to the ground. Scratching at his ears hurt, but it more often than not successfully made that quiet voice (painful, why was hearing it so  _ painful–– _ ) drift back into wherever it lived in his head. Whatever made it so weak, so sad and desperate–– it was not a part of him. It was not him. It was noise in his head, and he wished it would stop.

What used to be frantic and loud noise was more often now just a quiet, sad noise. But they faded back to silence either way. That was all he cared about. 

He scratched at the flaking blood on his cheeks. It was itchy.

It was getting dark out quickly again. Darkness meant bones and corpse enemies. Ones that gave him nothing but sharp bits and arms. He couldn’t even eat them. They wouldn’t even leave him alone–– didn’t react the way living monsters did to him. At least after the first few months, the monsters around the plateau left him alone. Many of them even skirted around him. The voices still warned him if they were near, but the noises had become more soft and unalarmed with every passing day. 

The night was falling fast. He listened, but the voices remained quiet. 

He reached forward and grabbed the fox off the ground again and ran back to the den. 

The structure remained as cold and still as it had when he had first awoken. Dark, and empty. Stagnant air and silent space. The gouges he had left, carved into the walls, on the floor, in the strange closed shells of stone and metal, remained the only decoration.

That, and the strange glowing slate he left on the floor, dark and quiet as the rest of the den.

_ I just wish the lil buddy would light a fire. Or take a camp from the bokoblins outside.  _

He ignored it. After some time, the steady boom of the fifth voice had become just another part of the landscape. Just another thing to survive with. Settled on the floor, back to his first bed-den-home, he diligently began to pull the fur off of the animal.  It took a lot of careful angling of the sharp piece of horn he had gotten off a monster, but he managed. He had learned early on that the fur was not worth stomaching.  Not easy to swallow, uncomfortable on his tongue. What he managed to sheer off was much more comfortable on the alien, smooth stone floors of his den. 

_ You wished a lot of things. Look where we ended up. _

The meat was tough, but it always was. He took care to pick the bones out.  If he bit them hard enough, or smashed them against the ground something thick and delicious was inside— but it was so little for so much. Not worth eating. He pulled them aside.

_ If he would just stop running away from the damn king–– if he hadn't lost his damn memories, if he wasn't–– _

_ Link, _ the soft voice said, and he perked up. That sound always meant him. They would say it and say it until he listened. Sometimes that was beyond annoying. Sometimes it meant something was behind him.

Nothing was behind him. He was in his den. He listened anyway.

_ Link, _ it said, sweet and soothing.  _ It's not your fault things ended up like this. I promise it isn't. None of us could help how things happened, and now... I hope you know that none of us truly blame you. I hope you know we want to help you. _

He had no idea what any of that meant. But the voice was calming in a way none of the others were. In a way almost familiar, like the feeling of dew on his palms and sunlight through the clouds. The words were lost, but the voice–– it meant something. It had to.

It made him feel good. Everything it said felt so  _ kind. _

He smiled happily, nodding. He hoped it helped.

If he focused, he could almost feel as if someone was touching his arm, small and delicate.

_ I hope tomorrow you won't run from his Majesty again. _

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this at like 7am because i couldn't sleep. 
> 
> I';ve been thinking about feral!Link AUs for a while now dear god someone help me i have so much work to do
> 
> Find me at my tumblr, [Leviathiane](url)!


End file.
